To flirt with a horse
by iguanablogger
Summary: Ok, so Medea's a horse. She keeps up appearences well, but everyone knows that sucks. Medea is pretty upset about it, so what can insomniatic Angelo possibly do to help? *not serious pairing here, people* DQ8


"All right, every'un," Yangus' deep voice announced to the caravan, "Guv says we should put down for the night right 'bout now."

"Yes, I rather agree," The carriage driver's high voice remarked as the toad dismounted, "It's been quite a taxing for all of us, hasn't it, my dear?" he stroked his horse's soft nose, concern in his beady eyes.

Medea grunted and pawed at the dirt beneath her weary hooves. As she allowed her companions to remove her harness and straps, the princess reflected on the day's events. It had been in a bittersweet adventure in more ways than one.

The spring had been beautiful, there was no denying that. If anyone had asked her, she would have told them it was magical even before drinking from its waters. The grotto was just perfect like that. But the old man…that was curious. How had he seen her true self? Was he so blind his sight had somehow become reversed, and he saw only what rests on a person's inside? It was a puzzle indeed. But that wasn't even the best part.

She had been human. Princess Medea of Trodain had ceased to be a horse for three glorious minutes. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world- to have hands, fingers, thumbs, arms. To just stand there and blink, to see her reflection quintupled on her companions' faces.

And finally…to _speak. _

To tell them all how much she loves them, how much it all means to her. She wished she could've stood there and talked all day without pausing. There were so many words- one does not realize what a gift speech is until it is taken away.

But then… The curse returned, and her wonderful, musical words were replaced with flat, broken whinnies. The ability to speak had been stolen from under her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

When she could talk, she lied. Medea found that ironic now that she lay down on all four legs and thought about it. She'd tried to reassure her father that she didn't mind being a horse. She even joked that it gave her the opportunity to repay her friends for their love and protection. And she'd meant every word when she'd said it, it's just… It hadn't been the complete truth.

She hated being a horse. Hated it. Not a day went by when she didn't wish for something other than oats and grass for breakfast. And the way she was treated! Medea swore that when she became ruler of Trodain she would be especially nice to horses. She would make an entire horse-watching squad, and if someone were caught abusing a horse they would have to answer directly to her.

But for now, she was laying beside the carriage warming her flanks by the small campfire Jessica had started, and retribution was no where to be found. Just peaceful forests and the road ahead of them…

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Angelo couldn't sleep. He didn't find it surprising anymore. Since the Abbot's death, he'd been having trouble getting the rest he needed. When he slept his dreams were haunted with Marcello, Francisco, and oddly enough, his parents. His parents, whom he hadn't thought about for nearly twelve years. Funny, he thought, that his father would show up now when he was least wanted in the young knight's mind. His real father had always been Abbot Francisco, not that pussy nobleman who died of plague. But now even that figure had been taken away…

He stood quietly, brushing off his uniform. A quick look revealed that Yangus, Jessica, Trode, and his retainer, all slept soundly. But something was missing…

As he leaned around the wooden vehicle Angelo noticed that Medea was nowhere near the carriage.

Alarm bells rang distantly in the Templar's mind. Medea had been pinched before, and she was quite the handsome mare. But surely the culprit wouldn't try again, not while she was surrounded by protectors? Angelo gritted his teeth and looked around. He considered waking Trode, but that didn't seem wise at this stage. In the end, the pompous king-turned-toad did much yelling, but not much acting when it came to his daughter. No, Angelo would have better luck if he did this on his own.

The moonlight was strong enough for Angelo to pick up just the faint hint of hoof-prints in the dirt road. He followed them quietly for a few moments until he realized they led back to the spring…

It certainly would've been dangerous for Medea to attempt this journey on her own. Even Angelo would think twice about walking into a dark forest late at night without even a weapon, but for some reason the monsters stayed away. The knight reached the Mystical Spring safely, and was only a little surprised to see a white horse staring at the water when he pulled back the brush.

She hadn't noticed him yet. Angelo used his advantage to slowly sneak down the path until he was mere feet behind the majestic animal. He didn't want to startle her, and he figured if Medea cared enough to walk down here in the middle of the night, she probably wanted to be alone. But when he got closer…

Being an orphan, Angelo had seen many sad and miserable things in his lifetime. But those sights would have to work hard to compete with this visage of misery. It seems impossible for a horse to have an expression, but Medea was managing quite well. Her long white body stood there unwavering, just staring into the shimmering pool of lilac water and conveying one emotion: _longing. _

Angelo felt something in his heart move. Again, he was not an unusually sensitive person, but he couldn't stand by and watch this maiden's heart break over, and over, and over again. He had to do something to cheer her up.

So he did, though he wasn't particularly sure it would work:

"Ahem," He began, clearing his throat loudly. Medea gave a short whinny of surprise and turned her large head to face him, green eyes looking him over. When he saw the sadness in those eyes, he knew he was doing the right thing. "I'm sorry if I startled you. It's just you're looking so lovely this evening, I had to know…"

Medea looked about as flabbergasted as a horse can. Her wide mouth fell open and revealed a rough tongue and choppy teeth. It wasn't exactly what Angelo would call attractive, by female standards. Nevertheless, he pressed on.

"What is your name, beautiful?"

The horse gave him one more disbelieving look before she grunted almost angrily. Medea pawed at the ground and shifted to her left, farther away from the playboy knight.

"No, don't go!" Angelo cried, stepping closer to her and reaching out for her saddle blanket, still draped over her back. Medea turned to him. "I'm sorry if I offended you, but I really mean it!" He took a moment to compose himself, breathing in while the horse studied him. He smiled and continued softly, "It's not everyday I meet someone as pretty as you."

Medea scowled. She considered dunking her head in the water just so she could yell at him to go away, but she didn't think it would work without that boy from the castle stroking her mane. At the thought of her crush, Medea calmed slightly and stopped thinking violently about Angelo, which he took as a good sign. Angelo drew closer, stroking her silk hair lovingly.

"So…" He began, "Do you come here often?"

_Oh Goddess, _Medea thought, _I think he's hitting on me. _

She gave a short neigh in reply, just to see how he would take it.

"I see," He closed his eyes and nodded, as though she had given him a detailed and complex answer, "Well, it's understandable."

What? Confusion grew like mold on the princess' thoughts. Had she said something, or was he just being odd? She wanted to ask him, but she momentarily forgot she was still an animal. Her question came out as a sharp whinny.

Angelo listened for a moment, and then said: "You're right, you know. I wouldn't either, under those circumstances."

Medea continued to stare at him blankly.

He elaborated, "You see, some boys just don't know how to talk to a beautiful girl. For one thing, you never tell a girl you like her. It makes you sound like an idiot."

_And you know because…? _Medea wanted to ask. Instead, she snorted loudly.

"Hey, I'm not that cheesy," Angelo looked up at her innocently, as though she had accused him, "I'd like to think I'm rather unique, actually. Ask the girls at Simpleton, they'll give you the whole story."

Medea laughed, a low rumbly sound. At first it had been somewhat annoying, but now she began to see he was playing a game. He was flirting with her as though she were not a horse. An interesting challenge…

She decided she'd give him a go. Without warning, the princess suddenly burst out into an entire sonata of whinnies, grunts, snorts, and neighs. She pressed on for as long as she could, her mind formulating sentences about how she hated being an animal and how she wanted to be a human again and her horse brain easily changing them to sounds.

When she'd finished, she turned back to Angelo with a toothy grin. His expression was very satisfying. His dull blue eyes were wide, but his mouth was pinched tightly closed, as though he were trying very hard to keep a straight face. Medea watched as he concocted a clever response and then shook himself, clearing his throat.

"Yes, well," He said, "I know I'm quite attractive but in a successful relationship…" He paused, giving her the sexiest grin he could muster as he stroked her nose, "The man serenades the woman. So please, exercise just a little restraint."

Medea was appalled. But then she laughed again, accepting that she had been bested. That man had a silver tongue, he did. And after a few more minutes of 'flirting', she found that it wasn't unpleasant to listen to.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The next morning was uneventful. Trode noticed his daughter was in much higher spirits and spent a jolly two hours informing everyone else about it. Angelo himself nearly forgot the night before, attributing it to one of his stranger insomniac adventures.

In any event, he didn't pay any attention to it until a week later, when they returned to the spring as Medea had made them promise. As usual, Trode's retainer unharnessed her and led her to the pool and she drank. The two of them were allowed their private conversation, but something different happened this time.

Angelo usually spent these exchanges leaning against the carriage thinking about the Abbey, and he was quite surprised to feel a soft hand tug on his sleeve. He turned, expecting either Jessica or Trode, but instead he found two large green eyes.

"Thank you," Medea told him, smiling. He just stared, shocked, as the princess continued to speak. She really was gorgeous. "Thank you so much, Angelo. I-"

But even as she spoke, light gathered around her and her sentence was never finished. Instead, he found himself face to face with a white mare, who looked at first bewildered, then disappointed.

"It's ok," He said quickly, patting her neck, "You're welcome."


End file.
